


Home (my soul will stay)

by maharetr



Series: Love in the time of DADT [2]
Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Children, Family Drama, Family Feels, Homophobia, M/M, Team Love in the Time of DADT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4836008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharetr/pseuds/maharetr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake takes a deep breath, puts his mug down on his nightstand, and offers Cougar the envelope.</p><p>“This is totally optional; really, really negotiable; totally no obligation. We mean that.”</p><p>“That good, huh?” Cougar says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home (my soul will stay)

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thanks to **soniclipstick** for being so willing to let me play in your sandbox, and for betaing this repeatedly as the deadlines loomed over us. You're the best! :D
> 
> Hover over (most of) the Spanish for English translations. Spanish is a mix of Google translate and my own rudimentary knowledge, so please do correct me in the comments :)
> 
> Title from Ingrid Michaelson's 'Home'.

The buzzing tugs Jake up from sleep, and he swats irritably at the air until he remembers: _phone on vibrate_ , and flails up the rest of the way into consciousness, fumbles his phone into silence and holds his breath.

Next to him Cougar shifts, mumbles… and buries his face deeper in the pillow. Jake dares to breathe again, and squints at his phone even though he knows what it’s going to say.

0630, on their day off. Jesus.

He waits another ten minutes or so to make sure Cougar’s still asleep, and then eases himself out of bed into the cool morning.

The kitchen is glowing with morning light as he sets the coffee maker going. Jake drinks his first cup, consciousness re-emerging as he triple checks everything and slides it all back into the envelope. Then he takes down their best uncle and best tio mugs makes his second cup, and Cougar’s first. His goddamn hands are shaking slightly. Marching into battle? No sweat. But this...? _Really, body?_ Jake clenches his fists, releases, but the tremors continue. 

Fine. He leaves a little space in their mugs to protect against spillage.

He tucks the envelope safely under one arm and makes the cautious trek back to their bedroom.

0700 hours, which is about Cougar’s natural waking time, the freak. Certainly, his eyes open easily as Jake puts the mug down on Cougar’s nightstand.

“Morning,” Jake whispers.

Cougar smiles sleepily, stretching, and he reaches for the mug. Jake can see the moment Cougar puts the coffee together with Jake being awake at this ungodly hour, and raises his eyebrows in query.

“It’s good! It’s okay, nothing’s wrong, I mean — I hope it’s good.” Jake clutches his own mug like a shield, and then he realizes the envelope is still clamped under his arm. Shit. He was so not the person to do this, even if it had been his idea.

Cougar sits up, crossing his legs and cupping the mug in his lap. He’s smiling tolerantly, patiently, and his knowing expression steadies Jake somewhat.

Jake takes a deep breath, puts his mug down on his nightstand, and offers Cougar the envelope.

“This is totally optional; really, really negotiable; totally no obligation. We mean that.”

“That good, huh?” Cougar says. He sets aside his mug and takes the envelope.

“We were going to give it to you for your birthday, but we didn’t know if that was weird, or too much pressure, or...”

Cougar opens the flap and Jake takes a mouthful of coffee in an attempt to shut up.

“I didn’t break into anything to get those, I swear,” Jake bursts out, because Cougar’s taken the photographs out first. “It was all publicly available on Facebook, and, like, totally legal name researching.”

Jake bites his lip this time, and holds it between his teeth as a distraction. Cougar is staring down at the photos, utterly still. The silence stretches, and stretches, and Jake _can’t_ not:

“That’s, um...”

Cougar looks up, and his eyes are bright. Jake isn’t immediately sure what they’re bright with, but Cougar isn’t taking a swing at him, so, encouraged, Jake scoots up beside him, and points. “That’s Cristina, obviously. And that’s her husband, Javier Torres, she changed her name when they got married, made them trickier to track down. And that’s ... that’s their twin girls, Isabella and Lucia.”

They both contemplate the image: the four smiling faces; a quick family snap at the beach, Cristina’s arm outstretched — to hold the phone, but it looks like she’s reaching out towards them, beaming.

“Isabella, Lucia,” Cougar whispers, tasting their names out loud for the first time. “How old are they?”

“Nine,” Jake murmurs.

Cougar stares at them for a while longer, and then turns to the second photograph.

“Maria,” he murmurs, and his voice wavers.

“Yeah,” Jake says, softly. “She’s Rivera now, that’s her husband, Antonio.” Maria’s a younger woman with long dark hair, presenting a shy smile for the camera. She’s cradling a baby in her arms. “Daniel, about two years older now.”

“I haven’t — I didn’t —” Cougar takes a deep breath. “It all felt very far out of reach,” he says. “ _They_ felt very out of reach. It hurt so much...”

Jake takes Cougar’s free hand and squeezes, then he nods to the envelope and lets go because, well, “There’s more.” And if Cougar wants to take a swing at him, that’s probably only fair.

Cougar tips the envelope, and the thick paper pocket falls into his palm.

“Oh, _Dios_ ,” Cougar whispers. He brushes his fingers over the Delta logo.

“Really, really optional,” Jake says, hurriedly, because it all seems like a terrible idea now that it’s actually happening. “It’s a flexible, mostly refundable ticket; you can bring it forward or push the dates back, or whatever you want. If you want.”

Cougar is staring at the ticket.

“I got you exit row, so there’s more legroom, and a window seat. But you know, you can move the seat wherever.”

Cougar hasn’t even blinked, let alone moved, and Jake doesn’t know what that _means_ , and his hands want to shake again.

“I can’t…” Cougar says, and Jake’s stomach just about drops out of his body. Shit. “I don’t want to… I… I couldn’t do it alone.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Jake says, all the air rushing out of him in one long woosh. “See, now, that…” He lunges for his nightstand drawer. “I really, really did not want to assume on that one, and like, if you’d not wanted any of it, that was cool too, but —” he holds up his own Delta pass. “We can arm wrestle for the window seat?”

Cougar _stares_.

“Tony offered to, like, buy out the airline for all the comfortable seats, and I said the whole thing was kinda intense enough without him adding to it and we’d be just f —”

Cougar throws himself at Jake, and they end up in an awkward crush of a hug, Cougar’s arms tight around Jake’s back, his face pressed into Jake’s shoulder. Jake hugs back, just as hard.

“I don’t deserve you,” Cougar whispers, damply.

“Yeah, well.” Jake presses a kiss to the top of Cougar’s head. “I don’t deserve you more.”

Cougar twitches with laughter and tightens his grip. They don’t move for a long time.

~*~

Cougar votes for bringing the tickets as far forward as they can. The weeks before departure both crawl and fly by and there's some sort of metaphor there about insects and reptiles, hell if Jake would know how to pull it together. Cougar vacillates between exhilaration and terror. The fact that Jake admits early on that he'd been in email contact with Cristina even as he'd started to pass the hat around for the tickets, somehow makes Cougar better and worse. More than once, Jake's found Cougar sitting at the computer, staring at an empty email, unable to find the words.

"She really, really wants to see you," Jake says late one night, after Cougar has tossed and turned for hours. "She misses you." Even in the dark, Jake can sense the flinch. Damnit. "She doesn't -- she didn't tell me any details, that's none of my business, but she doesn't blame you, for any of it. She’s really sorry." He dares to rest a hand on Cougar's back, and it pays off: Cougar exhales, some of the tension seeping away.

“ _Padre_ … whatever he said, that was law, for all of us. I had started pushing back, a little. He did not like that at all. And then, when I was fifteen, he found me…” He breaks off, takes a breath. “ _Maricones_ didn’t have family, they were deviants, going to hell. Everyone talked like that when I was growing up. I believed it; I think we all believed it. When _Padre_ found me …” Cougar tries for a resigned shrug, but the thickness of his voice gives him away.

“He kicked you out,” Jake murmurs, because he knows that bit, and he can imagine in far too vivid detail what might make Cougar’s breathing hitch like this years later.

“ _Sí_ ,” Cougar says, steadying. “When _abuelita_ found out and brought me back to America… she said…” a tiny smile creeps into his voice. “She said _cuanto todos pecaron, y están destituidos de la gloria de Dios_ , and made me a home.” Cougar swallows. “I still didn’t think I was worth… I still shut myself off from people. It was easier, after, to keep myself alone than to find out that no one else wanted me.”

Jake slides an arm around Cougar’s waist, “I’m really glad you failed at that, I gotta say.”

“Me too,” Cougar whispers.

~*~

There’s the veritable hoard of people to see them off at the airport: Clay and Pooch, Steve and Tony, Jess and Beth. 

"It’s not too late for me to buy up the airline, you know," Tony jokes, but Jake can see the worry under it. "We'll be _fine_ ," Jake says, hugging hard. He very nearly believes it, too.

~*~

Cougar lets Jake have the window seat, covers his face with his hat, and at least pretends to sleep for most of the flight. There’s only clouds out there to see, anyway, and Jake spends most of his flight watching Cougar. Jake’s not sure, but if he had to pick a Cougar-mood, he’d go with numb resignation: Cougar has been cycling so hard between hope and fear that there is nothing left.

The plane lands an eternity later for Jake and, Jake suspects, far too soon for Cougar. By the time they’re shuffling through customs Cougar is back into fear, although it’s only the hunch of his shoulders and the lowered brim of his hat that gives anything away.

Jake doesn’t dare touch Cougar; he falls in behind Cougar’s right shoulder and watches his six for him instead. There’s one last corridor to walk, and at the end of it, Cougar stops dead.

Jake sees the banner first: a hand-written, precariously-taped-together _Tio Carlos Bienvenida_ , and a girl at either end, proudly holding it together. Then Cougar’s stumbling forward, and a dark-haired woman is meeting him halfway, and they’re clinging to each other, shaking with muffled sobs, and yeah, it’s fine.

He turns his attention to the kids, who, sign holding job done, are now assessing him intently.

“Hola,” Jake says, crouching to their eye level. " _Me Ilamó Jake._ " His Spanish can hold up for that, at least. “Are you Isabella and Lucia?” Isabella is more confident than her sister; she nods and starts talking waaay too fast for Jake to follow, but ‘admire our magnificent work of art’ is about the same in any language, and Jake can do that.

Cougar and Cristina untangle eventually. It’s startling to see Cougar with tears on his cheeks but a beaming smile on his face. Cristina looks about the same, and Jake grins back at them.

" _Este es Jake,_ " Cougar says to her, and Jake tries for smooth and extends his hand. Cristina grabs him into a hug instead. “Hola, Jake,” Cristina says. Then with quiet fierceness in his ear: “ _Thank_ you.”

Jake blinks hard as they break apart.

“Jake, this is Cristina, my sister,” Cougar says, and his eyes are bright with wonder. Yeah. It’s gonna be okay.

“ _¿Es que tu esposo?_ ” she asks, and whatever she says, Cougar startles. 

“No,” he says. Then: “ _Puede ser_.” 

She laughs. “ _¿Complicado?_ ”

“ _Sí_ ,” Cougar says. Then he looks at Jake, and his face softens. ” _No no es complicado._ ”

Jake is _really_ wishing he’d got better at Spanish — and he has, dammit, in spades — but this is hella fast, and it’s making Jake’s head hurt, just trying to keep up. He surrenders, mentally and physically, letting himself be carried along by Cougar’s tremulous, warm smile and the overexcited kids, into the Torres minivan.

Cristina drives them to the Torres apartment. It’s a leap up from their apartment in Boston, but there's enough of the same feeling of _home_ that Jake feels settled almost immediately.

“Carlos said hotel, and we said bullshit,” Cristina says, smiling. 

She shows them their room, which has all the looks of a rapidly-cleared spare room — flattened carpet, and a slightly musty smell — but there’s a substantial double air mattress neatly made on the floor, a closet, and even little lamps positioned on either side of the bed.

“It’s great,” Jake says, sincerely. “We’ve slept in far worse hotels even, trust me.”

Javier gets home not long after; Jake is greeted with too-fast Spanish again, and a warm handshake. Late afternoon creeps in with golden sunlight across the balcony, and Jake stakes out a spot on one of the couches and watches Cougar glow with it. Cougar is radiant, animated with Isabella and Lucia in a way Jake had never seen before, even with Beth, and it makes Jake catch his breath.

Cristina has prepared a veritable feast for dinner, and everyone's talking over each other — sometimes remembering to translate for Jake, mostly sometimes not, but Jake doesn't care. It's more than enough to watch Cougar in his element, bantering and laughing and in the thick of things. Midway through dessert, Cougar says: " _¿Cómo es Maria?_ " Jake manages to catch the name, and no one could miss the sudden hesitation between Cristina and Javier.

“Hey,” Jake says, turning to the kids. “I saw a Nintendo over there.” He mimes using the controller and the girls shift from anxious glances at the adults to positively lighting up.

Cougar, Cristina and Javier slip outside onto the balcony, and Jake herds the kids lightly towards the living area. It turns out he really doesn’t need language to pretend to get his ass kicked at Mario Kart. 

Eventually, Javier comes in to put the girls to bed, and Jake slips away to stack and run the dishwasher, and retires to their room with his laptop. _Full on_ he types to both Jess and Tony. _But so far, so good. Really good. I hope._

Cougar comes to bed what feels a long while later. He looks exhausted, his face pinched enough to make Jake's worry spike, but Cougar makes eye contact, and lies close when he gets under the covers.

“How was it?” Jake asks, tentatively.

Cougar rolls onto his back and rests his forearm over his eyes, but he reaches for Jake with his free arm. Jake takes Cougar’s hand, not just clasping it, but tracing each finger, massaging his palm, giving him space within the contact.

“Maria is not sure if she wants to see me,” Cougar says in the silence, and Jake squeezes his eyes closed. Shit.

He remembers, involuntarily, the loss and hurt on Cougar’s face after his abuelita's funeral.

“Do we want to see her, then?” Jake asks.

“I don’t know. I -“ Cougar’s voice cracks. “He - they didn’t -. He didn’t tell them abuelita was dead until after the funeral, because he knew I would be there.”

Jake freezes. "Jesus," he manages. He remembers the coldness in Cougar’s father’s face, and his brain just about shorts out on it — he can't even begin to comprehend that. "Fuck."

Cougar shrugs, a resigned, tired movement. "His word was law," he says low, almost absently. "If I was not a member of the Alvarez family -- and he had said repeatedly that I was not -- then his mother-in-law defying that passed the taint to her too..." He spread his free hand in a 'so it goes' gesture. "He can't control us after we're dead, but he could have a very good go at everyone still living, I suppose. And he did."

"Fuck," Jake repeats. "I'm so sorry, Cougs."

"I think yes," Cougar says. It takes a moment for Jake to rewind back to the question. "I do want to see her, if only to prove that he has not entirely beaten us all."

~*~

Jake wakes late the next morning, which is usual enough for him. Cougar is already up, reading the newspaper on the couch — also usual. The hunched tension in Cougar's posture — that had been usual, but it hurts Jake to see it again. He announces his presence with a soft 'hey', and rests his hands on Cougar's shoulders, massaging lightly.

"Cristina called Maria," Cougar says after a while. "She can meet us for lunch in a few hours, at a cafe in the city."

Jake switches to running his fingers through Cougar's hair, rubbing circles against Cougar's scalp. Cougar closes his eyes and tilts back into it, but his jaw is still tense.

“Okay," Jake says softly. "We go out for lunch and have a great meal, and if the company sucks then we go wander the city, and then we come back here and I kick your ass at Mario Kart, _sí_?”

Cougar nearly, nearly smiles. " _Sí_ ," he says. "Thank you."

~*~

By the time they get there, though, even Jake is too wound up to feel like eating. They order coffees and stake out a corner table to watch the entrance.

Maria comes alone, and it's Cougar's minute startle that tips Jake off. Her eyes widen with recognition — then she registers Jake and flinches, then busies herself with her handbag as she approaches, trying to hide the reaction. 

She's hunched in on herself, exactly, _exactly_ like Cougar does, and when Cougar reflexively stands up and tries to reach for her, Jake could have told him not to do that.

"Carlos," Maria whispers. She looks like she's done a fair amount of crying already — Jake knows that particular, carefully-applied makeup look from Jess all too well. Her hands are shaking, but she pours herself a glass of water with careful concentration, clutching it like a shield. 

Jake catches Cougar's eye, tries to ask with his eyebrows if he should make himself scarce. Cougar is pale, but he reaches for Jake's hand under the table and holds tight. Okay. Jake makes himself sit back in his chair a little and concentrate on his drink. It really is excellent coffee.

“ _Es bueno verte,_ ” Cougar murmurs, sincerely.

Her face contorts -- she opens her mouth, and closes it, helplessly. " _Yo_..." she tries. " _Él_..." her voice cracks, and she inhales sharply. “ _¡Yo confiaba en él!_ ” she bursts out. Jake tries not to flinch at the anger in her voice, even if he has no idea what she’s saying. 

Her eyes are filling with tears. " _¡Papá me dijo que estabas mal, y yo — yo pensaba que estaba siendo ridículo, o que se lo estaba inventando. Pensé que arrepentirse y volver a nosotros!_ "

“ _Yo no tenía necesidad de arrepentirse, ni entonces ni ahora._ I did not need to repent, then or now,” Cougar says, very quietly, translating for Jake. “ _No para eso_ , not for that.” He pauses. “ _¿Que piensas ahora?_ What do you think now?”

" _Lo siento,_ " she whispers. "I... you are still..." She glances at Jake, who tries to keep his expression as neutral as physically possible while his stomach churns. 

" _¿Todavía un maricón?_ " Cougar asks, his voice infinitely gentle. _"Sí."_

“I do not know,” she says haltingly, in English. "I do not know what to think. I _trusted_ him. I _trusted_ him and he — after Abuelita — _¿qué clase de capulla?_ \-- she was _familia_ ," she bursts out. " __Tú _es la familia_ ” She gasps a breath. “You are family,” she repeats, fiercely, in English.

Cougar nods, quietly. “ _Gracias,_ ” he whispers.

She's shaking, but she swallows down her tears and straightens her shoulders.

“I take Daniel to play at the park in the afternoons," she says, looking between them both. " _Por favor_ , do come." 

~*~

They head straight home, afterwards. Cougar stretches out on the couch, hat over his face. Jake stakes out a patch of carpet near Cougar's side and plays Mario Kart on mute. Some hours later, there is the lightest touch on Jake’s head, and Jake leans into the caress and looks over to meet Cougar’s contemplative gaze.

"You did so good today," Jake whispers. 

Cougar smiles, tiredly, and that's a miracle in and of itself.

~*~

An afternoon of quiet and a full night's sleep seems to help, too. When Cristina suggests the zoo the next morning, Jake shares a look with Cougar and nods 

The walking and the fresh air are good for both of them -- Jake feels himself unwinding, and can see the similar relaxation of Cougar’s stride. Besides, it’s impossible to dwell miserably inside his own head when Isabella and Lucia are running circles around them, overjoyed and awed “Tio Carlos, Tio Jake! Come see!” by the penguins and the tigers and the giraffes and the… It’s impossible to not be reminded of Bethie and her boundless enthusiasm for things. Jake glances over, and he can see the same shine in Cougar’s eyes as he watches his nieces play.

Jake takes hundreds of photos of them, and gives the girls his phone to run around with and take whatever they want. It’s good, it’s really good.

Tension starts to seep in later that afternoon, as Cougar and Jake prepare to go meet Maria at the park near her house.

She’s standing by the swings, her little boy by her side. 

The boy regards him shyly, but heads for Cougar with wary interest. Cougar crouches in the grass and lets him take the hat. " _Se ve bien en ti_ " Cougar says.

Jake glances between Maria and Cougar. She’s smiling — damply, but smiling, and Cougar’s eyes are bright, too. Jake offers to get everyone coffees and leaves them to it.

~*~

Their days fall into a comfortable routine of sorts. Cougar tugs Jake out of bed each morning, and takes him out to see Cougar’s old stomping grounds. Many of them are long gone, redeveloped into new neighborhoods, but it’s enough to listen to Cougar gripe about the change, or just for Jake to quietly revel in Cougar in his element, speaking his first language and sharing all sorts of loves with Jake. Jake had thought that Cougar’d been moving well since taking down Max, but this is a whole new level of relaxed and comfortable. Possibly one that he’s never seen before.

The afternoons are more cautious, careful affairs at the park with Maria and Daniel, but no less wondrous for that. Then they go back to the apartment and Jake helps make dinner under Cristina’s exacting directions. One night he convinces her to let him have the kitchen, and under equally careful directions from Jess over Skype, pulls off some pretty damn amazing burgers for them all.

The afternoon of their last day, Jake delivers Maria and Cougar coffees and politely retreats with his phone. Maria falls in behind him, not saying anything, but definitely following him back to what is now his bench. They sit, side by side, and Jake sips his still-too-hot drink and tries not to catastrophize too hard. Watching Cougar push Daniel on the swings helps some.

“You are happy with him, yes?” Maria says. Jake blinks. She’s watching the swings, too, and Jake looks straight ahead gratefully. Daniel’s giggling floats to them on the breeze.

“Yes,” Jake says. “Very happy.”

“He is happy with you.”

Jake’s not sure if that’s a question or not. “You’d have to ask him that, I think,” Jake says.

“I did,” she says. “He said yes, too.”

“Ah.”

She exhales, turning her paper cup in her hands.

“He was very angry, very… sad, too. When we were young.”

Jake nods. “There’s been a lot of angry and sad, since then, too.”

“And you helped him.” That’s not a question.

“I… we helped each other, honestly.”

She nods, and sighs this time. “I do not… the word of the Lord is clear,” she says, and Jake takes a hot mouthful of coffee, choking it down with the retort he might otherwise have blurted. “The Word is clear,” she repeats. “But… but he would not be here if it were not for you. I mean —” she gestures to the swingset, to their bench. “Not just here, of course, but also, he would not be here if not for our abuelita, yes? And he also would not be here if it were not for you.”

Jake doesn’t want to think about that. “Maybe not. I mean that’s not something that anyone can --.”

“Shh,” she says. “He says you talk a lot.” And she grins, her face lighting up for the briefest of moments. “Thank you,” she says, her smile abruptly wobbling and her voice wavering. “Thank you.”

Jake nods, none to steady himself. “You’re welcome,” he says, fervently. “ _De nada_. Thank you. I am very glad for him.”

It’s Jake who needs the hug when they leave the park that afternoon.

~*~

The night before they leave, Cougar and Jake shout them all to Cristina's favorite restaurant. They hold 9-year-old appropriate levels of sway over a private function room, and treat the girls to sparkling juice in wine glasses.

Maria appears, Daniel asleep on her back, and a quiet bear of a man by her side. Cougar goes to her, immediately. Jake's picked up just enough Spanish to wish he didn't understand what she was saying. " _Mañana ... Lo siento, no puedo. No puedo ver que vaya de nuevo. Lo siento mucho._ " And Cougar holds her, swaying them as she cries, whispering reassurances in her ear. Jake swallows past the lump in his throat, and sets about mangling a magic trick for the twins’ edification.

Lucia is half way through perfecting vanishing a coin when Cougar finally returns to his seat. It is a bittersweet evening all-round. The alcohol, superb food, and — even better — boisterous company, it all helps. Boisterous was never, ever a word Jake thought would apply to Cougar, but here he is, laughing and ribbing Javier with a glowing smile. No one is going to believe him, even if he felt okay about taking a photo. Jake settles for memorising every damn moment he can and committing it to memory.

~*~

The farewell at the airport is horrible and wonderful. Jake takes too many photos, until Cristina wrestles him for his phone, and Cougar grabs him, and he finds himself planted in the middle of a family group photo. Cristina keeps snapping away, even as Cougar turns to face him and kisses him in front of everyone. She gets several shots of his burning cheeks after, too.

“It’s not about me,” he whines, finally getting his phone back.

“No,” Cougar agrees. “It’s about us.” That does shut him up, for a little while.

They swap All The Contact details Jake can think to offer, or think to ask for, and then it’s time to go, and it’s almost as bad as leaving Jess and Bethie for Basic, but this time Cougar’s right by his side.

Jake stretches out in his exit row seat as best he can, feeling wrung out but satisfied. Cougar sleeps deep and well, and hours and hours later the ease and grace he'd picked up in Spain carries them off the plane and into Jess and Bethie's waiting arms.


End file.
